Tales of a Different Manor
by zeshadesofjustice
Summary: Series of 50 oneshots, all of which take place around Malfoy Manor. Different pairing wills occur throughout, most notably Severus/Narcissa and Draco/Luna. Rated M for later content.


_No, I wasn't sad to see you go. How long I lay here and stare at the ceiling tonight doesn't matter. I refuse to feel alone._

And at that he lifted his quill from the parchment. With the sound of his writing gone, his room in the manor didn't seem quite so loud anymore and yet it felt even louder. While he wrote, the only thing he heard were the scratches as ink was shaped into letters, letters into words, words into sentences. Now? A footstep down the hall, too light to be his father's, seemed magnified. His own breathing was too exaggerated.

The knock on the door nearly made him jump. He forced himself to steady, cleared his throat. "Yes?"

He watched as the knob turned and the door was pushed open to reveal his mother. She threw him a small smile, so rare these days in the Malfoy home. Lucius had escaped the fate that the world had expected. A fate, as it so happened, that the majority of the world had seemed to want. Azkaban was not made his new residence and he was allowed to keep his soul, but the punishment he had been handed was (to his family, at least) worse than that. The Ministry, with their convoluted sense of justice and mercy, had simply made the elder wizard their pet. He answered their every beck and call, the house had a full team of aurors… It was miserable.

"I thought I heard you in here." Her eyes moved from him to the feet of writing on his bed. "What're you writing, anyway?"

"Nothing." He toyed with the edge of his quill. "Just… short stories."

She moved further into his room, to the edge of his bed. Closer, she could see exactly how much writing there was. With a smile, she arched a brow. "Are you sure they're short?"

"Fine. It's a…book. Of sorts." He shifted uncomfortably, hoping she wouldn't ask for details. He hadn't the faintest idea of how to tell his mother that it was more like a journal, a record of things she really didn't need to know about, and he didn't want to have to give it a try. "I didn't know when you'd wake, or I would have ventured out earlier."

Unspoken things lingered between them, things about Lucius that neither wanted to speak about. It was because of him that they rarely ever did anything together now. In fact, they rarely ever saw each other. Draco sighed. The only advantage of it was that it kept him from having to tell his mother where he was working, or from having to come up with lies of details of what it was. "Has he been in a decent mood today?"

Narcissa shrugged. "Decent as he gets, I suppose. He claims that he hates going out, but I think he's actually happy for a chance to do something in the eye of the public. He's miserable here."

"You are too. You never really leave, unless it's with him."

"And here I thought I could hide it."

"From the world, maybe. But not from me, mum." Her lack of an attempt at arguing showed him how right he was.

Suddenly, she looked puzzled and tilted her head. "It's a Thursday, and you're still here. You're usually only home the full day on Sunday."

"Oh, um." Part of him thrilled at knowing she noticed. "Got lucky today. Speaking of… isn't today a special day?"

"Besides going to the Orchestra tonight? Hardly."

"Oh? I think otherwise." He smirked. It'd be some hours yet before she knew what he meant, but he was confident that she'd think today was special by the time the day was over. "It isn't every day that you celebrate your birthday. Or Valentine's Day."

"They hardly seem to matter anymore, Draco.. you know that. Last year he didn't do anything. I doubt he even cares." There was sadness in her voice, but bitterness too…and the latter of the two was the stronger.

"Don't count out other people. And no, I do not mean myself." His smirk grew. "I thought I heard Holmes earlier."

She blushed. "You did, yes. Severus finally wrote back saying he'll attend tonight. Of course, he does so _after _I had given up hope on him giving an answer."

"See? People care, mum."

"Yes, I suppose they do…" She looked to the floor. "Even in our complicated state."

"Some people care through everything."

And some despite nothing.

* * *

**Author's Note;** _This particular piece will make more sense to you if you have read Emotional Enigma of an Exceptional Ensemble. _


End file.
